


Morning After

by Silver_Eternity



Series: Unconventional Relationships (OP) [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Older Characters, Past Abuse, Scar Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Eternity/pseuds/Silver_Eternity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set right after Gambling on Affection and also written for a livestream audience so I went extra smexy on the details.  However, there ARE past mentions of rape and abuse, a bit of scar worship, and extremely unusual eyes on Doflamingo that is purely a fan construction.  However, All warnings of rape and abuse and underage ONLY APPLY TO PAST EVENTS AND ARE NOT GONE INTO DETAIL.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not, never have, and never will had any part of ownership over One Piece or it's characters. Believe me, if I owned it, there would be a lot more Marine Admirals dying and a lot more openly yaoi relationships.
> 
> Shichibukai = Pirate Lords/ Seven Warlords of the Sea  
> Names of all Pirate Lords at time of this fic: Donquixote Doflamingo, Dracule Mihawk, Boa Hancock, Bartholomew Kuma, Jinbe, Gekko Moriah, and Crocodile  
> Devil Fruit: bestows one particular power on the person who eats it, comes in three 'types' (Logia, Zoan, and Pharmacacia); power is canceled out by seawater/seastone and the user weakened, often to lethal weakness, thus causing the nickname 'anchor' for Devil Fruit users.  
> Relevant Devil Fruits:  
> Donquixote Doflamingo - name and limits of devil fruit unknown; uses 'strings' to physically manipulate people and can turn them to razor wire in order to slice, often combined with psychological manipulation to make his 'puppet' more amusing.  
> Crocodile - Sand-Sand fruit, Logia class. Can manipulate sand and remove moisture from things and people; training evolved to such a strength that he can create his own desert on a whim by removing all moisture from surrounding environment until turns into sand. Weakness is all water, not just seawater (sand + water = mud).
> 
> Tenryuubito: "Celestial Dragons", descendants of the twelve founders of the World Government, current World Nobles and granted impunity by the World Government for that reason despite their cruel and abusive, indolent natures and illegal behaviors, such as the taking of slaves and killing of anyone they feel like.
> 
> Bananawani: Also known as Bananadiles, these are strange creatures, enormous crocodiles with a single banana growing out of their forehead. Crocodile appears to have an affinity with them, because he owns a large lake full of them; they populate a 'moat' around his personal casino, by the name of Rain Dinners.

Crocodile hadn’t been quite prepared for the effects of allowing Donquixote Doflamingo’s monster of a penis invade his body.  He’d thought he was, but he _wasn’t_.  He hadn’t bottomed before.  In his few times having sex with men, he had always been the instigator, the ‘seme’.  With Doflamingo, he… hadn’t been.  Though younger than he, the other man was larger and had been in the Shichibukai longer, and it was he who had propositioned Crocodile after the monthly meeting at Marine HQ.  Actually, Doflamingo had been propositioning him after _every_ Shichibukai meeting since he had first been initiated, and since the man had made his ‘initiation’ rather…pleasurable…Crocodile had allowed it.  It was…admittedly flattering to have a younger man, an extremely powerful one, who could easily have his pick of the greatest beauties around, to pursue him with such…dedication.  Regardless of the fact that the man in question was, as he had heard described on numerous occasions, “batshit insane”.  Not that Crocodile himself would ever use such vulgar terminology.  Donquixote was simply…unique in his views on life.  
  
It hadn’t taken him long to delve into the other pirate captain’s past.  Or his present.  The man left quite an impression wherever he went; the man had even been remembered in the crowd of thousands who had attended Gol D. Rogers’ execution- though the fact that he had an afro the color of corn silk probably helped make him memorable.  Crocodile could safely say that he was quite glad the man had abandoned that particular hairstyle by the time he had met him.  Strangely, that was the earliest information he could gather on him, and he had been in his early twenties then.  It was quite odd.  Who the hell _didn’t_ remember a ten-foot-tall teenager gallivanting around their town?  Regardless, he’d found out in the present that he owned the Human Auction House on Sabaody.  It was quite a dirty little secret- though the marines on Sabaody generally looked the other way, particularly because their _precious_ tenryuubito liked to frequent it, it was quite a black mark against the Marines for one of their Pirate Lord allies to be running such a devilish business right under the nose of their HQ.  It would be good blackmail, should he ever need it.  
  
Regardless, he probably wasn’t going to need it.  Though he _wanted_ to fuck Doflamingo up for this.  He wanted to do that _very badly._   His midsection was racked with stabs of horrendous, white-hot pain every time he moved his hips.  He couldn’t stand.  Fuck, he couldn’t even _sit_.  God forbid he put weight on his ass right now.  He couldn’t even shift to try and get into a more comfortable position, stuck on his side where Doflamingo had put him.  If he got the chance, he was going to gut that bastard for this, he thought sourly to himself.  Worse, the feathered menace had disappeared almost twenty minutes ago, leaving him stranded and alone.  
  
Damn him, damn him and his hypnotizing eyes!  He felt so stupid for agreeing to show him how to take off his wrist-mount for his hook.  Of course, at the time, it had sounded perfectly reasonable.  “Let me take it off so you don’t accidentally stab me in the middle of things,” Don had said, and like a goddamn idiot he’d let him.  Crocodile felt his eye twitch.  He didn’t even try to keep his thoughts from being vulgar and homicidal.  The fucker would only deserve whatever Crocodile dished out to him for putting him through this.  
  
And then Doflamingo returned, a large white length of fabric draped over one arm and a sheepish smile on his face.  “Sorry I took so long.  I was getting the doctor, telling the chef to make breakfast, and drawing you a hot bath to help with the soreness and pain.  It should help your muscles.”  
  
Crocodile sent a glare at him that could have melted solid diamond.  
  
He chuckled weakly and tried not to make his flinch obvious.  Six months he’d spent carefully courting him, coaxing him toward this point, and the man looked like he was contemplating how to kill him and get away with it.  He was eyeing him like a cat might a fish (He had no idea at the moment how accurate he was- Crocodile was imagining gutting him like a fish and throwing his entrails to his bananawani).  He instead just continued with what he’d been doing, scooping Crocodile up in his arms and carrying him into the bathroom, then shoving his own shorts that he’d tugged on to schlep around the house in to the floor and stepped into the tub, settling the other on his lap.  He had to sit sideways with his thighs on top of Don’s legs, to avoid putting pressure on his sore ass, and Don knew he was going to pay for last night regardless of how much his smaller lover had enjoyed it.  As he pampered the man in his lap by gently washing him, his mind wandered back to last night…and _what_ a _night_ it had _been_.  
  
 _Tonight Crocodile had finally agreed to graduate from the toys to the real thing.  Despite its intimidating size.  Despite knowing Doflamingo was most certainly off his rocker.  Despite even his own sense of self-preservation that told him he would regret this twelve hours from now.  But damn it all, he was tired of feeling Don go to sleep beside him with a throbbing dick!  He felt guilty about it every time the bigger man retreated to the bathroom to rub it out or ducked into a cold shower.  Especially since no matter how many times he brought him to orgasm he sprang back like a goddamn incubus.  While the blond was physically only a few years younger than himself, his libido was at most twenty years old.  And it made him worry.  The man owned the Human Auction House.  He could have anyone he wanted.  He could have as **many** as he wanted.  He didn’t know why, but the thought of Don going to some slave to satisfy himself made him feel…just a little ill._  
  
 _No, that was a lie.  A bald-faced lie, and he didn’t lie to himself, he was better than that.  The thought of Doflamingo fucking other people made him feel sick to his stomach because he was dearly attached to the man.  Possibly even loved him.  Fuck.  But what was this, they had?  Really, what did it mean?  Was he just a game to Don?  A prize to be won and thrown aside once gotten, like so many of the amusements he’d seen the taller man go through in just the six months they’d known each other?  He couldn’t help thinking he was.  That first time, that first night they had done this… **thing** , Don had called it a game.  A game.  That was all it was.  Well fine.  **Fine**.  If Doflamingo wanted to play a game, he would let him win, and then the man would leave him in peace to nurse his wounded pride and broken heart.  So yes, tonight he’d decided he was going to let Donquixote fuck him.  And if this turned out the way he thought it would, then…he would have to handle it.  He was no coward, to hide away from the world and mourn a love- a relationship- that had never truly been real.  Something he’d never had.  He wouldn’t play this game anymore._  
  
 _Don knew there was something off about his Crocodile tonight.  Something out of sorts.  It wasn’t just his sudden agreement to full-on sex with him.  The way he was holding himself, the way his mouth was set like he was about to undergo some distasteful task.  “You know I never want to push you to do something you don’t want.  We can walk back outside right now and just sit on the dock drinking sake.”  He’d done that a couple times before, when Crocodile thought he was ready and wasn’t.  He’d barely gotten within a foot of the man on the bed before he’d panicked and called it off.  Crocodile’s mouth twisted into a frown._  
  
 _“No.  I really want to go through with it tonight.  I want **you** tonight, Don.”  He knew that would get the man raring to go.  He usually didn’t call him by the affectionate nickname, except in the throes of passion, and so the man had been trained to have an instant reaction of almost unbearable arousal to Crocodile calling him by it._  
  
 _Don gritted his teeth even as his dick sprang to attention like a solider during roll call.  He was **not** going to let him distract him from whatever was distressing him!  “Crocodile.  I know you.  No matter how much you want to deny it, I am familiar with you, with your mannerisms and your style of doing things.  Something is wrong.  I’m not going to let you distract me so you don’t have to talk about it.”_  
  
 _Crocodile nearly bit his tongue.  Damn his persistence!  “I’m just…I’m just nervous, alright?”_  
  
 _Don tried not to snarl.  “You’re using **contractions** when you talk, Crocodile, you never use less than proper language unless your dick’s halfway down my throat and even then it’s rarely!  Talk to me,” his voice gentled, “let me be your confidant.  I promise not to tell anyone.”_  
  
 _Damn him.  Damn him for sounding like he actually cared!  He was a cruelly deceptive bastard indeed, and good at it too.  He swallowed and reminded himself that, all emotional ties aside, Don was very good at making his body feel good.  He was very skilled at giving pleasure, and that was what he wanted tonight.  He wanted to feel good.  He wanted to get something out of this.  He wanted…he wanted good memories to hang onto when Don was gone.  When he’d won the game and left.  Reminding himself of this short term goal helped him draw on that ‘blushing hot mess’ Don so often reduced him to and that the bigger man couldn’t resist for his life.  “I just…I’m scared.  I’ve never bottomed before…”  Like he’d thought, that did it._  
  
 _Don couldn’t stop his sharp intake of air at that.  He’d never…not once…?  Oh god.  He sat down on the side of his bed and swallowed hard.  “I…I…fuck, Croc.  I don’t know what to say.  I’m…I’m pretty big for the first cock you’ll ever take, um, so, if you wanted to…uh, try someone else first, I uh…fuck this isn’t coming out right.  Shit.”  Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he fell back on the bed and tried to wrap his mind around the full implications of what Crocodile had just told him.  Then he tried again.  “What I mean to say, is, I guess, if you didn’t want **me** to be your first, I’ll wait.  Um.  Shitfuck I’m still screwing this up.”_  
  
 _This was actually amusing to Crocodile.  To see the usually suave Doflamingo fumbling for words.  To hear him curse like the men who sailed under him.  To hear him admit he was botching this up.  It put him at ease, and made him forget the real reasons he was doing this.  Or maybe it just helped him to **remember** the real reasons he was doing this.  Because he loved this man.  Loved him hard and fiercely.  And he didn’t want anyone else.  So, aloud, he scoffed.  “Try someone else?  Stupid bird.  Nobody in this world would ever possibly prepare me for you.”  Striding over to the bed, he straddled the man’s waist.  “Why would I look elsewhere…when I have you ready to provide for my every whim?  You know me, Don,” his voice lowered to a husky purr, “I demand only the best.  I refuse to settle for any less.  And out of everyone in this world, you are the largest and most skilled.  That makes you the best.  And you suggest I settle for **less** than the best?  Foolish talk.”_  
  
 _Don couldn’t help the grin that curled his mouth as he removed his hands and looked up into the face of his lover.  “Ah yes, little King, I should have known better.  I apologize for insulting you,” he murmured, watching as those black eyes flashed at him._  
  
 _Crocodile reached down and snatched the glasses off Don’s face, tossing them on the bedside table.  “You know I hate it when you call me that.  Why do you do it when you know it only angers me?”_  
  
 _Don smile turned sheepish.  “Uhhh…’cuz I think of you like one?”_  
  
 _Crocodile’s raised eyebrow said it all._  
  
 _Don felt the heat creeping up his cheeks to flush them red and didn’t try to hide it.  “Well, I…uh…well… You’re my…my…my own personal king, okay?”_  
  
 _Crocodile’s raised eyebrow went higher._  
  
 _Don’s blush extended down his neck.  “I can’t…I can’t help it, okay?  You’re always so graceful, and regal, and- and- I don’t have to explain myself to you!”_  
  
 _Crocodile’s other eyebrow joined the first.  He’d never seen Doflamingo lose his composure like this…he liked it.  He lowered his face to meet the others, hand braced on his chest to give him leverage.  “If you want to get anywhere with me…you know very well that you do.”_  
  
 _Don winced.  He did have a point… “Al…alright.  It’s because…unnn…because…don’t make me say ittttt…”_  
  
 _Crocodile’s stare was unrelenting and heavy.  He made sure it pressed on Don even more than the weight behind his hand pressed down on his chest._  
  
 _Don squirmed and squeezed his eyes shut.  “It’scuzyerkingamyheart.”_  
  
 _Crocodile sneered.  “That was unintelligible and you know it.  Say it so I can at least decipher it, birdbrain.”_  
  
 _Don took a deep breath.  “It’s..it’s cuz you’re…the king…of my heart.”  He pried open one eye to look up at the other.  Since this little arrangement had started, emotions had never been mentioned.  And he would never admit it, never, but…he was a little worried the other man was only tolerating his attentions **because** emotions had never been involved.  Now he’d gone and broken that silent agreement.  Crocodile’s reaction was vital to his poor, battered heart.  This would define the rest of their interactions with each other for the rest of their lives._  
  
 _Crocodile nearly swore he felt his heart stop.  Just stop, dead, in his chest.  He couldn’t possibly mean that, he couldn’t- that would mean- oh god what if he was wrong- he gave himself a sharp mental slap.  He’d seen how short Don’s attention span was.  So sure, he probably meant it.  He was the king of his heart… **for now**.  In a month, that spot would belong to someone else.  Yes.  That was it.  He calmed himself and instead gave Don a gentle smile, one that held his own feelings.  “That…is surprisingly sweet.  For an empty-headed bird like you, that is,” he made sure his voice was light, letting him know he was teasing, but that he understood and appreciated what the other man meant._  
  
 _Don gave a little grin of his own in relief.  Then he abruptly felt sand grate on his skin and he was naked in under ten seconds, left to blink in shock.  Oh fuck.  A blushing, shy Crocodile had nearly killed him when all his blood had rushed to his dick, but a **dominant** Croc taking what he wanted would **really** kill him!  That was so hot he didn’t have **words** for it.  His mouth went dry and his dick leaked with no further provocation.  Dear god, was he in for it now._  
  
 _Crocodile smirked down at him, taking charge for once, and by all indications his bed companion had no complaints whatsoever.  Actually, by all appearances, he rather liked it.  His own clothes dissolved into sand entirely, not even requiring him to waste seconds disrobing, and Don’s eyes got wide and his pupils dilated in pure arousal, his usually ocean-blue eyes darkening to almost black.  Good.  With him this worked up, what he had in store for him would drive him **wild**.  Swallowing- he’d never been this bold, and hell, if he hadn’t met Doflamingo and had encounters with his ‘toys’ before, he would never have even thought of this, but…he took a deep breath, steeled his nerve, then turned around on the blond’s lap and presented his ass._  
  
 _If he hadn’t been laying down on the bed, Don would have fallen off it.  How had his conservative Crocodile gotten up the nerve to do…do… **that**?!  He felt like someone had hit him over the head with the mainmast of his ship.  If his mouth hadn’t gone bone-dry, he might have choked.  As it was, he now couldn’t take his blue-on-orange eyes off his lover’s ass, and, more importantly, what was **in it**.  There, in perfect view thanks to the smaller man’s position, was the handle of very, very thick… **something** …that was both occupying and stretching his entrance.  Murmuring an oath in his native language, something he hadn’t slipped enough to do in many years, he reached forward, wrapped his long fingers carefully around the handle, and pulled it out slowly._

_His eyes got wider the more of it he withdrew.  It was so **long**!  And fuck, it was thick, and as more and more came out he couldn’t help the repeated jolts of arousal that shook his body.  When it finally came out completely, he almost had a heart attack and he was sure he’d made some involuntary sound because it was a **dildo molded in the shape of his own cock**.  It even had all the dimensions right, both length and thickness.  For a second, he stared at it dumbly, wide-eyed and stunned to the core.  Where… how… **when** …oh holy mother of all things living._   
  
_Crocodile nearly came as the toy he’d had custom-made after taking a cast of Don’s cock was pulled out of him, but when there was no response from the man behind him, he started getting nervous.  He tried to look back over his shoulder, and Don was just staring at the toy, eyes wide as plates, body frozen.  He swallowed, suddenly wondering if he’d done something wrong.  He’d just wanted to save the hour of foreplay and stretching…he wasn’t that patient, usually, and hadn’t wanted to give himself time to change his mind.  He shifted, and suddenly Don’s eyes snapped to his and he felt his gut tighten.  He’d never seen a look like that before.  His pupils, they were…they were **shrinking** and he didn’t even have time to register what that meant before he was being pinned on his stomach in the middle of the bed and Don was pressed to him without enough room for a breath of air to get between their bodies and there were teeth in his shoulder._   
  
_To say Don was lost would be an understatement.  The man, the personality, the human being of mental capacity known as Donquixote Doflamingo was flat out **gone**.  All that was left was the beast of primal instinct that lurked just under the polished veneer that was Don.  He had been reduced to little more than an animal, a very big, very **strong** animal that had his ‘mate’ pinned beneath him and ready to fuck.  Growling, he rutted against Crocodile’s ass, rubbing his cock along the crack and collecting what lube had slipped out of him with the dildo, and finding it not enough, he reared back and slid back on his knees to bring his face down to the stretched hole and started lapping at it.  He was much too far gone to remember what lube was, or that he kept it in the bedside drawer._

_Crocodile cried out and squirmed at the strange feeling, trying to protest, and wondering what the hell had happened to the other.  He was acting like some sort of- some sort of **beast** , and it was strange but he didn’t want the other man’s mouth **there**!  He kissed him with that mouth!  When he tried to move his arm to push him away, he found he couldn't move them.  They were immobile, but under his control…it was like they were- tied together with invisible string!  Fuck, Don’s power, he’d nearly forgotten!  He’d promised not to use it and he’d broken that; now, Crocodile was starting to feel scared.  He couldn’t help it.  Don never broke his promises.  Something was going on, and he didn’t know what- his thoughts were abruptly scattered when a hot, wet tongue licked him from balls to tailbone._  
  
 _Don, or what was left of him, gave the puppet string holding his mate in place a little tug to make sure it wasn’t too tight and then he returned to his current task- preparing his mate properly for him.  He was slick inside, but he needed to be wetter.  Lapping like a cat, he spread as much slick saliva as he could around the rim, then inside as far as he could reach.  The intensely pleasured noises his mate made while he got him ready were a bonus, and he kept doing it longer than strictly necessary just to hear more of them.  He was almost mewing, and Don knew he hadn’t made that sound before.  He liked it, but he wanted to mate him now, claim him properly.  So nobody else could.  Carefully, he positioned himself and started to push in._  
  
 _Croc wasn’t sure what had come over Don, but he knew whatever it was he was in for it now.  At least it seemed to remember that those puppet strings could cut if too tight, and was giving him a little slack.  Still, as that massive cock started invading him, he realized his mistake.  The toy had been made from a cast of his dick when he was sleeping and it was limp.  His hard length was, while not considerably bigger, was just enough to make him feel the stretch and a slight burn.  His hand gripped hard at the sheets, and he bit the pillow as the other man hilted inside him and held still a moment to let him adjust.  He could feel him in his **ribcage**._  
  
 _Don stopped once in, nuzzling at his mate’s neck lovingly, hands petting up and down his body.  He didn’t see or smell blood, so he hadn’t hurt him much, but his mate was obviously uncomfortable.  He licked at his neck and shoulders, hands running down his chest.  Noticing his mate seemed to rather like it when his hands ran over the two hard points on his chest, he took them both between finger and thumb and gave them gentle, pulsing squeezes.  His mate made a low sound and his insides squeezed Don, so he took that as his cue and sat straight on his knees, starting slow to make sure his mate wasn’t still uncomfortable._  
  
 _Crocodile couldn’t have stopped the cry of pure pleasure that burst from his throat if he’d tried, and he wasn’t trying.  There was an entire foot of cock pressed up directly against his prostate, and even those short thrusts rubbed against it mercilessly, the bulging veins on the dick inside him giving extra stimulation he didn’t know how to handle.  This was so much more…more…just **more** than the dildo.  He wasn’t prepared for this.  There was a lot about Doflamingo he wasn’t prepared for, but this just took the goddamn cake.  They’d barely started and he thought he was going to die, or explode, or cry, or **something**.  Then Don really started thrusting._  
  
 _Crocodile **screamed**._  
  
 _Don purred.  His mate was pleased, he could tell by that very loud noise, so he continued to thrust, delving deep and hard, and thrusting as deep as he could possibly get into that tight, hot vice that gripped him so perfectly.  He rested his chin on the other’s shoulder, purring to him and still petting him, though one hand was holding his hips steady as he hammered into him, telling him without words how dear he was to him, how much he loved him, how he would be with him forever if his little mate let him.  He would make this the best mating he’d ever had, and then his mate would never want to leave!  He’d stay and let Don take care of him forever.  He purred extra loud and give a few extra hard thrusts at the thought._  
  
 _Crocodile was reaching his breaking point.  He would have broken long ago if he had any stimulation on his cock, which was hard and leaking like a faucet as it swung wildly from the hard thrusts that were pounding into his ass.  He couldn’t help the screams of pure pleasure that kept tearing from this throat, and his hand reached for his dick only to be held where it was bound to his hook and he belatedly remembered about the string holding him.  He’d forgotten about it under the incredible onslaught from behind him._  
  
 _Don felt the tug and quickly figured out what his mate wanted.  And he knew he was close, very close, so he grinned and gave his mate’s neck one last kiss before reaching down and giving his dick a single firm stroke while ramming deep inside him at the same moment._  
  
 _For miles around Don’s ship, people all over the island jumped in alarm as a high, unearthly scream echoed around the city, bouncing between the buildings before dying away._  
  
 _It took Don almost a dozen more thrusts into the incredibly tight heat that had clamped down around him before he came to his end as well, and then he sank down against his mate, nuzzling him and purring.  But his mate didn’t respond, and after a moment, he found out why.  After worriedly turning his mate onto his back, he found the other male was unconscious!  After checking he was alive and satisfying himself that he was, he nodded proudly and pulled out carefully, wincing when his mate gave a grunt of discomfort, then settled at his back to get some sleep himself.  He would take care of everything…in the morning.  Yes.  In the morning.  He would show his mate that he was…he was a good mate.  Strong.  Loving.  In the morning._  
  
Don came back to himself when he was sharply prodded in the side by the stump of Crocodile’s wrist.  “What on earth is that stupid dreamy expression on your face about, Birdbrain?”  Considering his lover’s current mood, he decided it wasn’t wise to answer that perfectly honestly and twisted his words to suit.  “About what I did wrong last night and how to make it up to you,” he answered evasively, and winced.  Judging by the even blacker look Crocodile was giving him, he hadn’t phrased that quite right.  By Roger’s mustache, when he could walk again Crocodile was going to tear his balls off and toss them into the sea if he couldn’t stop bungling this.  
  
Crocodile eyed the other man, then settled back in his lap with a final little angry noise and resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest like a petulant child.  At least the man was admitting he shouldn’t have handled last night in the manner he had.  Or at least, that was what he was telling himself Don was admitting, since the alternative would be that Don thought last night was a mistake and his heart couldn’t handle that.  That thought, now that it occurred to him, made him turn to send him another venomous glare, only to make him pause.  In the bright bathroom lighting, there appeared to be something…wrong…with Doflamingo’s eyes.  
  
Don gave a little squawk of surprise when he suddenly found a hand clamped harshly around the base of his neck, dragging him down to bend him double and put him on eye level with Croc, who was staring him dead in the eye with frankly unnerving intensity.  
  
Now that he was really looking at them, he could see the pupils had shrunk to accommodate the change in light intensity, but Don’s pupils were a strange shape Crocodile didn’t really have a name for.  Almost like a windmill shape, but without curved blades.  Like a four-pointed star, or a cross, right dead center in his eye with one of the slits perfectly vertical and the other perfectly horizontal.  But they weren’t square or even rounded.  No, they were slits like a cat’s eye, and the inner corners shrunk in as it contracted.  He’d never seen anything like it.  He frowned.  “What is this?”  
  
Crocodile’s voice was low and dark.  Doflamingo shuddered at it, knowing somehow he was in trouble but not knowing why or even how.  “I- I don’t know…what you mean.  You’ve seen my eyes dozens of times before,” he said shakily.  
  
Crocodile snarled and whacked him with his stump.  “I mean your _pupils_ you moron!  They have an incredibly strange shape and I demand to know why.”  
  
Don swallowed hard and blinked rapidly a few times.  “They- I was born with them like that.  I don’t know why.”  
  
Crocodile frowned.  “They must have some strange effect on your vision.  I never noticed before because in low light they dilate so wide as to look round,” he mused, distracted from his anger by the strange phenomenon.  
  
“Colors.”  
  
Crocodile’s gaze snapped back to him.  “What?”  
  
Don squirmed.  “Colors.  I can’t see colors the way other people do,” he elaborated, feeling oddly vulnerable.  That hard yellow stare was pinning him in place like a pushpin in a butterfly.  “I have the most trouble seeing black, it usually looks purple to me, and, um, green I can’t seem to see at all, green things only look gray,” he continued.  
  
Crocodile raised an eyebrow.  “Would that happen to be why you like the color pink so much?”  
  
He nodded, still visibly uncomfortable.  “Uh, yeah.  Pink and most other shades of red are the only colors that don’t shift around on me.  Even the reds will switch around with the blues sometimes.  Pink’s the steadiest, I’ve never seen it change.”  
  
Crocodile mused on this.  If nothing, it was interesting.  And an exploitable weakness, if you knew how to, but he couldn’t think of any immediately applicable weak points.  Don already knew his vision was different from other people’s, so trying to switch colors on him wouldn’t work if someone tried to poison him, and that was the first thing that came to mind when one thought of colorblindness.  So he really had that weak point covered already, and he couldn’t help but approve.  Still, this was valuable information.  Why had Don told him, with minimal squirming and no hesitation?  Perhaps he simply didn’t think Crocodile was that much of a threat.  
  
Don was just starting to relax, since his lover didn’t appear to be freaking out about his eyes as he was afraid he would, when the hand on the back of his neck, which had slackened a little, tightened its grip again.  “…I feel something on the back of your neck.  Turn around.”  Oh.  Oh no.  No, no, no no no no no!  Don’s heart dropped into his stomach, but he said nothing, only moved Crocodile onto the seat of the tub across from him and did as told, letting Crocodile see his naked back for the first time.  
  
The only thing Crocodile could do was stare and hope he hadn’t gasped out loud.  Doflamingo’s back was completely covered in scars.  Red, raw-looking, latticed scars that horrified the older Shichibukai.  From the back of his neck, all the way down to where the water was at his waist, and they looked like they went even lower than _that_.  He’d never seen so many scars, not like that, not overlaid over each other until there was nothing at all left of the original flesh.  All that remained was the scar tissue.  And they had scarred so _badly_.  Surely they’d never been treated.  Dear kami in heaven…  
  
Don felt even more intensely vulnerable than he had before, and he quickly turned back around; or rather, he tried to.  
  
“NO!” Crocodile’s voice snapped out, and the horror in it made Don freeze in place.  “No,” he continued more gently, making effort to sound as neutral as possible, “stand up.  Let me see…everything.”  He didn’t miss Don’s flinch.  
  
The taller man did his best not to let his terror and discomfort show.  So he wanted to see it all, did he?  Wanted to see his ugliness in its entirety?  Steeling himself and setting his mouth, he slowly stood and braced a knee on the edge of the tub, which was set into the floor, and pulled himself out of the bath entirely.  Then he stood, completely straight, entirely exposed, and waited.  
  
Crocodile could barely control himself as the full extent of the damage was revealed.  The scars stretched from his neck all the way down to his _ankles_.  His legs weren’t anywhere near as bad as his back, but they were pretty bad.  His shoulders looked like someone had attacked him with a knife, and even his ass was covered in the marks, lash marks he realized distantly, marks from a whip or a crop being brought down on his skin over and over, with enough force to part the skin into a gaping wound and make it bleed.  This wasn’t just a single incident.  No.  These were put on in layers, he could clearly see it now, at various points in time, and a knife _had_ been taken to the tender skin of his shoulders and the small of his back, and kanji had been carved there at one point but later abuses had broken them up too much for them to be legible.  
  
Suddenly he wondered if other _abuses_ had been heaped upon the larger man, and Crocodile moved over to the side of the tub, his pain and soreness reduced by the heat and water enough that he could ignore it for the moment.  “Don…what happened to you?”  
  
He shuddered.  At least Crocodile hadn’t run away…though that it might be only his curiosity holding him was not a comforting thought.  “I…I wasn’t always this big.  And- and I wasn’t always a killer.  Hell, I wasn’t even a _fighter_.  And they didn’t like…a skinny little twelve-year-old with gangly limbs showing them up.  I was only about five feet tall.  My arms and legs too long for my body.  And they hated me.  They hated me _so much_.  I was smarter than them, but not stronger.  And they could do whatever they wanted.  So they did.”  
  
Crocodile felt ill again.  Just sick.  But he had to know.  “…Anything?”  He knew Don would know what he was really asking- _Everything?_  
  
Don shuddered.  “Anything.”  _Everything.  Every terrible thing you can do, they did._  
  
This time it required quite a lot of concentration to keep from being physically ill.  Someone had… no wonder Don had twisted morals.  He’d learned none of them growing up, only after he was grown and gone from his home, when he was set in his ways, and any morality he learned, any ‘honor’ he encountered, was twisted by his life experience.  And did he say he’d only been… _twelve_?  Crocodile nearly saw red.  The only thing that kept him was the cool, distant manner in which Doflamingo spoke of it.  “…Come here, Donquixote.  I presume the guilty parties are no longer living?”  They had _better_ be dead.  Because if they weren’t, he was turning them into mummies.  
  
Don felt…oddly numb as he slid back into the water, and over to his lover.  “No.  They were…shall we say…most helpful in allowing me to learn the limitations of my power?”  
  
Crocodile couldn’t stop the grin that curled one corner of his mouth.  “Oh?”  
  
“Yes,” Don said.  “They were how I found out that if my strings were wound too tightly, cuts and dismemberment were soon to follow.”  
  
Crocodile’s golden eyes shone with a dark, blood-lusty light.  “I see.  And I suppose it took…quite a lot of experimenting to learn the exact limitations of your strings?”  
  
Don could feel his own grin returning.  “Oh, yes.  Months’ worth of practice.”  
  
Crocodile purred.  “How…lovely.”  
  
Don slid over to where Crocodile was resting and then they were back to their previous relaxed relationship.  And Crocodile was smacking him in the shoulder as he lifted him out of the hot bath and quietly telling him of how he planned to remove his testicles in the most excruciating manner possible before making them into earrings and throwing his ‘abomination’ of a dick to his bananadiles once he was back in Alabasta.  Don could only laugh at the descriptions.  He knew perfectly well Croc didn’t mean it- it was just the sore ass and the bad temper talking.  
  
After drying his smaller companion came breakfast, again letting Croc use his legs as a bench to keep pressure off his sore ass, and after that the doctor, who dosed him with painkillers that wouldn’t put him completely out of it but wouldn’t make sitting quite as much of an agony.  
  
Still, the drugs did make him rather fuzzy, and as he drowsed in Doflamingo’s arms, Crocodile couldn’t help the question that spilled from his mouth.  “Y’know…you already got what you wanted.  You won the game.  Why are you still being so…so…nice?”  
  
Don gave him the sternest look he could manage under the circumstances.  “This isn’t- this isn’t a game.  Maybe it was at first, for you, because I knew you needed the option of ‘quitting’ if you felt you needed to.  But it’s never really been a game for me.  I was ‘playing’ for keeps.  So I’m taking care of you because I care _about_ you.  And people look after the things, the people the care about, don’t they?”  
  
Crocodile went quiet after that, contemplating all the subtle meaning of what he’d said.  Donquixote was generally about as subtle as a freight train, but this…silently, a smile took over his face and he settled more comfortably in his… _lover’s_ …lap.  Okay.  Okay.  He could handle this.  In fact, he even preferred this.  This, he could _work with_.


End file.
